The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1887-08-26
TEMPERANCE READING.
THE FRUIT or THE STILL.


Two Songs of the Wheat and the Corn,
II send you some of the most wonderful
whisky that ever drove a skeleton from the
feast or painted landscapes in the brain of man.
1t is the mingled souls of scedt and corn. In it
you viii find the sunshine and the shadow that
chased each other over the billowy fields, the
breath of June, the carol Of the lark, the dewS
of night, the wealth of summer, and autumn's
rich content, all golden with imprisoned light
Drink it, and you will hear the voice of men
and maidens singing the Harvest Home
mingled with the laughter of chill 1ren. Drink
it, and you will feel within your blood the
startled dawns, the dreamy, tawny dusks of
many perfect days. For forty years this liquid
JOY has been within the happy slaves of oaks,
longing to touch the lips of man.-Ro5ert G.
IngeTsoN1
There's wonderful fountain of liquid JOY
Flowing forth in a crystal rill,
Forever and ever it welleth up
From the misty depths of the still;
In its widening course as it hurries along
1t circles the wide world round,
And side by side as they drink of its tide
The prince and the beggar are found,
While poets sing, so merrily sing,
AS they quaff it again and ag- in:
" It is only the life of the wheat and the corn
Which Nature hath given to men.
glow
OF summer with autumn's content;
Thy, pulse shall thrill like the breath OF a
June,
When the sunshine and shadows are blent
With the carol of birds, in the dew-spangled
dawn,
When the dawn is imprisoned with light,
Men and maidens shall sing the sweet 'Har-
vest Home
In ravishing strains of delight
And children shall laugh, while they Join in
the song
Re-echoed through valley and glen.
''Tis the mingled souls of the wheat and the
corn,
Which the Giver hath given to men,"
While the world is enticed by the poets
song,
I sit by the worm of the still;
chuckle and laugh with the fiends by my
side,
And death-dealing potion distll.
Such glorious landscapes 1 paint on the
brain
They seem but feast of delight;
Then rattle my skeleton bones beside
Till reason hath fed in alright.
Drink deep of the cup from the river of life,
4. Drink deeper, whisper; and then
i crush out the life of the wheat and the corn
"a While rivet my chains upon mer
mingle the threads of the woven gold
Which kings are entitled to wear
With web SO fine that kings will choose
To sleep i'll beggar's lair.
crumble the walls of palaces grand,
And build up novels instead,
While maidens and mothers with anguish
moan,
And children arc crying for bread;
My vassals are shouting in fiendish glee
From mountain, from forest, and fen,
The liquid JOY from the wheat and the corn
Is the river of death unto men,
And who shall hinder its surging tide
AS it means in q sullen roar?
" The world is circled from pole to pole,
No strand, save Eternity's Shore"
Forever and ever it hurries on,
And the world with woe doth fill,
For demons are building the gallows HIGH
Enwrapped by the mists of the still
And gibber and laugh in ghoulish glee
AS hide me away in my den:
whence cometh the souls of the wheat and
the corn? +.
Whittier goeth the souls of menu
Lydia j. CddaUelIs, IN Union Signal